Part 2No More Funding My Traitor

I turned. Luna was standing there, clutching a flimsy, floral-patterned umbrella with a snapped rib that hung like a broken wing.

"I’m so sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't mean to bother you both. I just... I was worried about my textbooks getting ruined."

She looked up, her eyes catching Everett’s for a split second before she looked away. They were rimmed with red, shimmering with a vulnerability that felt like a calculated strike to the heart.

Luna had only been here a week. She barely spoke to anyone, let alone the "inner circle." For her to ask Everett for help was a move I hadn't expected. Everett was famous for his lack of patience; he usually cut people down before they could even finish a sentence.

But today, he didn't even hesitate.

"Cora, I can't walk you home today," he said, his voice dropping an octave into something low and forced. "Luna lives on the other side of town. It’s too far for her to walk in this."

His face remained a mask of ice. If I hadn't heard the internal screaming of his heart, I might have actually believed this was a moment of chivalry.

"And what about me?" I asked, my voice laced with a bitter edge I couldn't quite suppress.

Everett frowned, his irritation bubbling to the surface. "Your driver is literally sitting at the gate, Cora. Just take her broken umbrella and run to the car. It’s twenty feet. You’ll survive."

Without waiting for an answer, he shoved Luna’s mangled umbrella into my hand.